


Donald Trumpet and the Aliens in Oval Office

by fairyfoona



Category: America - Fandom, Real People - Fandom, american president - Fandom, celebrity - Fandom
Genre: Aliens, American Presidents, Donald Trump pole dancing, Donald Trumpet - Freeform, Fifty Shades of Grey, Gen, Giant jelly babies, Horde of George Clooneys, I'm Sorry, Oval Office, Pole Dancing, Satire, The Author Has Regrets, donald trump - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2018-12-31 06:04:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12126132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairyfoona/pseuds/fairyfoona
Summary: Donald Trumpet has always dreamed of being supreme leader of earth. One day, a mysterious opportunity presents itself in the form of a curious creature...an alien!





	1. An Out-Of-This-World Proposition

A single knock echoed through the office, pulling the man, hunched over a stack of dense reports, from his reading.

"Come in," the Donald said, looking up at the large polished doors, expecting yet another member of the secret service to barge in, complaining unnecessarily of some new drama. Instead, the doors remained eerily closed.

"Hello?" Asked Donald, "Is anyone there?" He wasn't sure if his ears were playing tricks on him after a long day at the White House. He looked down at the report he was reading and sighed loudly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was never going to get through these papers at this rate.

Another loud knock reverberated through the door, making the president jump out of his seat.

"Oh for crying out loud! Just-" He spluttered angrily as he strode up to the doors and yanked them open in a single, harsh gesture.

"Could you just leav-"

Donald stared at the strange figure standing outside his office, his mouth agape like a homesick fish. The ash-grey figure had large eyes that looked like as though they contained pure void. It had long lanky limbs and an egg shaped face. Donald realised exactly what it must have been- an alien.

Donald stared into the endless void of the alien's eyes, hypnotised.

"Uh- um...." he stammered, "Can- can I help you?" The alien continued to stare at Donald as if he were the alien, then without warning, lifted its twig like arm. Donald flinched, but he soon realised that the alien just wanted to shake his hand. He stared at it- what if this alien was hostile?

"Worry not, Donald Trumpet," said the alien in a deep voice that reminded Donald of Morgan Freeman and rich honey, "I am here to help you."

"Help me with what exactly?" Donald asked, narrowing his eyes slightly, wondering what on earth he could actually help with.

"With becoming the supreme leader of the human race of course," replied the alien nonchalantly in the same deep, rich voice. Donald's eye's widened in surprise. These aliens could do that? Grant him the wish that he always wanted. Donald always thought that he could only become the supreme leader of the world by taking over North Korea... but maybe there was another way.

He suddenly realised that he hadn't invited this alien in so he moved aside to let the thing in. The lanky creature shuffled into the Oval Office and sat down in the chair across from his desk. Donald followed, sitting in his big presidential chair, giving it a twirl before settling in front of the alien.

"I have a proposition," It started, " I will give you mind control implants to control your senior staff." Donald wasn't sure what to make of this. Were they just going to give it to him for free?

Surely not.

"In exchange for what?" asked Donald, suspicious of this random alien visiting. It pulled a strange envelope out of a fold in it's skin and handed it to Donald.

Donald took it with great hesitance, his lips curling in disgust.  
"Here are the list of demands. I expect them in the next 3 Earth rotations." Donald opened the envelope and read through its contents.  
"Let me get this straight..." Donald said, "You want 2 rubies, 5 diamonds, the full dvd set of Star Trek: The Original Series, a life size paper cut out of George Clooney, and 50 Shades of Grey?"  
"It's for... research purposes."


	2. Unexpected Visitors

3 Days Later...  
  
Donald sat at his desk, clicking his pen to help ease the butterflies in his stomach, next to him lay the items that the aliens requested. All his life he wanted to become the supreme leader of the world, and now he finally had the chance to do it. He could barely contain his excitement at it all.  
  
Someone- or something- knocked at the door, and in pure joy, Donald sprinted to the door... only to find it wasn't what he was expecting.  
  
In front of him, a horde of George Clooneys stared at him in delight, suits pressed and hair immaculate.  
  
"Greetings," they all said in unison. Donald's jaw dropped, nearly tripping over when the horde of George Clooneys all stepped forward at the same time.  
  
Donald sprinted into his office, but the Clooneys were gaining on him.  
  
There was nowhere to go.  
  
His eyes swept frantically around the Oval Office, settling on the large windows behind his desk that were framed by red drapes. He leapt onto his desk and grabbed a pole with the American flag on it, using it as a weapon the combat the onslaught of George Cloneys pouring into his office.  
  
"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!" Donald screamed over the voices of 500 George Clooneys chanting "Donald Trumpet," save for the single exception quietly mumbling "Donald Crumpet."  
  
Donald nearly tripped on something on his desk, realising what it was, he picked up 50 Shades of Grey, and in a desperate attempt to ward off his attackers, he throws the book into the moshpit of George Clooneys. The crowd instantly ran towards the single point where the book was thrown, all struggling to get ahold of it. The Georges had blocked off one of the only exits, but there was still a chance- and that was through the window. Donald took the chance and ran.  
  
The glass shattered around him as Donald fell through the Oval Office window. He could feel the tiny shards embedding into his exposed skin, tearing the silky smooth orange flesh to pieces.  
  
It was only then that Donald realised that his office was on the second floor...  
  
Donald could feel the wind rushing past his ears as the ground got bigger and bigger. He squeezed his eyes shut waiting for the impending splat against the concrete.  
  
Suddenly, Donald's body came to a halt in mid-air. He looked up, and above him was huge figure holding him in its gigantic hand was a giant that was at least 3 times the height of the White House. Spotlights trailed across the huge man from the helicopters that circled him.  
  
Donald Trump stared up at the being's face in horror: it was a giant, 210-feet-tall George Clooney.


	3. The Imposter

Sirens blared as the giant George Clooney barrelled through the streets of Washington D.C. Donald felt like he was being crushed under the immense pressure of the giant Cloony clone's hand.  
All of a sudden a portal opened up in the sky above him. The wormhole looked like a whirlpool of blue and green glitter floating in the sky. A colossal flying saucer emerged from the hole up above. It had two rings that looked like donuts spinning around a glowing orb.  
  
In a desperate attempt to be free of the giant Clooney, Donald bit down onto George's hand, only to find his teeth was sinking into... Ginger.  
  
George screamed in agony as he fell to his knees making Donald nauseated with the sudden movement.  
  
"Nooooooooo!" George sobbed, "You found my secret.... I am a ginger bread man."  
  
Donald Trumpet was flung like a ragdoll into the nearest tower by the enraged Ginger Clooney. His heart hammering, Donald braced for impact.  
  
A purple beam erupted from the orb in the centre of the spacecraft, grabbing Donald like a claw vending machine that can actually pick up something. Donald screamed as the beam carried him towards the spaceship, and probably a far more painful demise.  
  
Another beam shot out of the orb, straight for the giant Ginger Clooney. It screamed in terror as the glowing purple aura enveloped him. The giant collapsed in pain, crushing a Costco, helicopter and a cheezel.  
  
Meanwhile, Donald continued to gain altitude. He was breathing hard from all the running and being picked up by a huge Ginger Clooney. The purple beam pulled him in between the two disks into the orb. Donald tried to shield his eyes from the blinding light, but the orb just got closer and closer until it engulped him like pacman eating those white things.  
  
At first, Donald could only see white. Then colour started to seeo into the world. He could make out strange shapes of a futuristic throne with a grey figure on it. His head felt like it was filled with cotton candy, his limbs were heavy like lead.  
  
“Hello,” said a familiar chocolatey, caramel voice.  
  
Donald rubbed his eyes slowly, trying to get them to focus. The colourful shapes sharpened and he realised he was in a huge, cavernous room.  
  
About 5 metres in front of him, a throne sat on a raised platform. Beside the throne stood two normal-sized George Clooneys dressed as gingerbread men. A familiar ash-grey figure sat on the throne, staring straight at Donald.  
  
“Donald, welcome to my bungalow.” Said the alien, his voice echoing throughout the cavern as he waved his thin arm around the room. As Donald looked behind him, he realised he was standing on a platform above a huge factory of George Clooneys. The vast machinery spread for miles into the dark abyss, valves pumping and hissing, churning out droves of clones with every passing moment.  
  
"Donald, I have something to show you," the alien said. He raised his twig like arms and started fiddling with something on his neck. Donald had no idea what was happening. Finally, the alien succeeded in undoing an invisible clasp, and peeled off it's face like a mask. Donald went still with shock, the colour draining from his once-vivid orange skin.  
  
The face that was underneath the alien mask smiled menacingly.  
  
"Obama," Donald whispered.

  



	4. The Dance-Off

Donald stared at his arch nemesis in shock.   
“Your friend won’t help you now,” Obama boomed, pointing to a cage in the shadows that contained the ash-grey alien. How could he not notice it before?Donald was scared, it was almost impossible to defeat Obama. There was only one way.  
A dance-off.

Donald closed his eyes, wishing there was another way, but there was only one thing he could do when it came to defeating his enemy. He breathed deeply, keeping eyes closed in concentration. He started spinning around and around, his clothes forming into what only could be described as 80s disco costume. 

Obama stared at his bright green and pink button up shirt and brown and yellow checkered flares that clashed terribly. Looking at Donald made his eyes sting, but that only made Obama more scared. How was he going to dance when that walking fashion disaster was in the room? He would have to change into the worst disco outfit in history. 

Obama closed his eyes, mirroring what Donald had done before and spun around, his clothes falling off revealing the most hideous outfit that Donald has seen. Before his stood Obama in a shiny, rainbow, skin tight one piece suit, complete with flares and a pink belt. Obama looked down at something behind him and touched something, turning on hundreds of flashing fairy lights, lighting him up like a Christmas tree. It was good… too good, Donald thought. 

Obama waved his hand, signaling to a George Clooney to flick colourful switches. All of a sudden, the lights went out, save for two spotlights shining on Donald and Obama. The intro to Rick Astley’s 1987 hit: Never Gonna Give You Up started blaring above them. 

Donald launched into his practised routine, performing like he’d done it millions of times. Waving his arms and legs rhythmically in time to the music and strode up to Obama, glaring into his eyes. 

“Obama, I beat you in the election and I’ll do it again,” he said fiercely, swaying his body perfectly in time and clicking his fingers. Donald then sprang into his next routine, tapping on the metal floor with his shoes that had magically transformed into tap shoes. The tapping continued, as the chorus played and Obama watched on, planning his debut. He clicked in his fingers, summoning a George Clooney slave and whispered something in his ear.

Meanwhile, Donald was reaching the crescendo of his tap dancing routine, the tapping getting louder and faster that Rick Astley’s singing was barely heard. Donald suddenly stopped, jumping into the air and landing in the splits. 

Obama took his chance at starting his own routine, one far better when he had instructed his George Clooneys to bring in the disco floor. As he jumped onto the dance floor, LED lights flashed with every step he took. The former president then started break dancing. He jumped the floor, the LED lights flashing around him as he did the worm, squirming around on the floor. He then proceeded to do the windmill, spinning on his head with his legs apart above him, like a windmill. He then lifted himself up with one hand, continuing to spin. He continued until the end of Never Gonna Give You Up, finishing on a double backflip. 

Donald was at a loss of what to do. He had to get back his friend, the alien. Looking back to the cage, he saw the alien wave at him weakly. Donald had a grand thought.

He put his finger on his ear, whispering into the ear piece a string of orders. On the other side a faint “Yes sir,” replied. 

Donald clicked his fingers, and a pole erupted from the dance floor. The president then ripped off his disco costume, revealing a sequenced mankini over cheeto- coloured skin. He ran up to the pole dancing. Obama looked on in horror, his face contorting in disgust. The George Clooney guards even covered their eyes from the walking, talking fashion disaster. 

Suddenly, a booming voice echoed through the spaceship, making Obama flinch and Donald stop his horrifying dance routine. 

“OBAMA,” the voice echoed through vast cavern. Obama was paralysed with fear, staring at the giant face of a jelly baby. It advanced towards Obama, its arms wide, ready to embrace him in a big hug. Obama snapped out his trance, running towards the exit.

Donald took his chance and ran to his beloved alien trapped in the cage. He scanned the steel bars for a door, or some sort of way to get his precious out of this prison. There was nothing. He shook the cage in despair.

“Worry not, Donald,” the alien tried to reassure through the bars.  
“No!” Donald cried, worry etched into his orange features, “I can’t help but not worry about you. Especially when I love you.” 

The alien stared at him with his big, void-filled eyes for a moment, comprehending this revelation. 

“Donald.... I love you too,” The alien whispered in its rich voice. 

Suddenly, Donald had an idea. He glanced over at his abandoned pole, it had withered into the dance floor as if it hated Donald’s pole dancing so much it decided to end its suffering. If Donald did the same to the poles on the alien’s cage… then he could save the alien.

“I have to do something… but you aren’t going to like it,” 

Donald glanced back at the alien, seeing that it’s expression mirrored Donald’s worried face before. The alien sighed, knowing exactly what Donald was about to do but it was a necessary evil if he wanted to get out of this prison anytime soon.

The alien backed away as Donald started pole dancing on the poles of the prison. The poles screamed in agony and melted to the ground, creating a alien-sized hole for the alien to fit through. 

The alien climbed through the singed bars and together, Donald and the alien ran to a giant door near Obama’s throne. The George Clooney’s noticed their escape attempt and sprinted after them. Donald and the alien continued through the maze of passageways, once again being chased by a horde of George Clooney’s in gingerbread costumes.

They turned around a corner and saw something that looked like a escape pod. They jumped inside, the hatch closing behind them.

“We made it,” the alien said, as he kissed Donald.

“Wait… I never got your name,” Donald asked.

The alien just smiled and said “Hillary Clinton.”


End file.
